


Negotiation Tactics

by yokainomiko



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, It's mature because the thug dies, KHR Rarepair Week 2018, Phone Calls, Some wordplay, i don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:24:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yokainomiko/pseuds/yokainomiko
Summary: Byakuran needs a hit.  He decides to hire his favorite mist user for the job.  Sort of 10069.  For KHR Rarepair Week 2018.





	Negotiation Tactics

**Author's Note:**

> I found out about this week around 4pm today and then had a flight at 7pm. I got home after 1am so this is late. That sucks. I wrote another submission for Day 1 but it's 2am on Day 2 and I want to go to bed.

“C’mon, pick up , pick up...” a thug frantically repeated from his hiding place. He was crouched behind behind a large wooden shipment crate in a conveniently empty warehouse.

Click. “Hello?” someone on the other end of the phone line asked.

“The Gesso leader has a secret love of—”

He never got to finish sharing his findings. Instead he dropped to the ground.

From not far behind him, Mukuro materialized. His gloved hand grabbed the phone and tapped the end call button. He rolled his eyes. “That was anticlimactic.”

The Vongola Mist Guardian picked up his own phone just as it began to ring.

“Did you take care of things?”

“I stopped him from telling anyone and the rather pathetic mafia scum is currently unconscious.”

“Good, now kill him.”

Mukuro rolled his eyes again. “Is such an extreme reaction really necessary? Tsunayoshi-kun kicks up such a fuss when I kill even the most lesser of beings such as this one.”

“No one can know!”

“Would it really be so bad if people knew you—”

“Don’t say it! What if this line is bugged?”

“Kufu, is Byakuran of the Gesso Famiglia really such an incompetent fool that he can’t keep his phone lines clean?”

The now identified caller’s voice dropped a little deeper, “Perhaps I just like my phone calls on the dirty side.”

“And I prefer my phone calls not to be an exercise in pointlessness.” Mildly bored, Mukuro used his boots to roll the unconscious man onto his face. Task complete, he repeatedly kicked the skull of the very unlucky peon. “If you want this waste of life dead, kill him yourself.”

“Buuuut Muku-chaaaaan~” Byakuran moaned. “You’re right there! And I’m so far away!”

“I am neither that vapid Vongola storm dog nor the weak stomached sun you call a best friend. Do minimize the whining.”

“I’ll pay you! Your normal rate and those French chocolates you like.”

“Oya oya, now we’re beginning not to waste my time.” Mukuro smirked and continued to lightly kick his future murder victim. “But that seems like a such a paltry sum for the preservation of a secret you hold so dear and to put up with Tsunayoshi-kun’s rather incessant bleating.”

“I could throw in a nice dinner?”

“You could give up marshmallows for a month.”

“What? But—” Byakuran blustered. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to!”

“I’m sure I could create a sufficient deterrent with the right illusion.”

“What would I do without my beloved marshmallows?”

“There are other sticky white things you could put in your mouth.”

“...are you coming on to me?”

Mukuro felt his frustration growing. “Do you want this invalid dead or not?”

“Muku-chaaannn,” Byakuran whined again.

“I will hang up this phone and find a Vongola insect to both care for him and spread his secret for all,” he threatened.

“Fine!” Byakuran sobbed. “You win. I agree to your terms. Just kill him! _Please_.”

“Kufufu, I could get used to hearing you beg.” Mukuro grinned. It was all teeth and a dark sight very few had witnessed. Many less still lived. He pressed a button on his wrist before pulling a gun from his Earring of the Mist Version X. He calmly shot his victim in the brain stem and dropped the gun as it faded out of existence. Bits of gore splattered from the close range of the shot.

“There is brain matter on my boots,” the words came out terse. Mukuro clearly sounded displeased. “I am billing you for the dry cleaning.”

“Haven’t I agreed to pay you enough?”

“It’s an incidental. As is corpse clean up. Are you prepared to discuss my terms?”

“You fucker!” the mafia boss hissed. “I already gave up marshmallows and you’re saying you won’t even make a dead body disappear? Not only that, but you bitch over some blood on your stupid shoes?”

Mukuro gasped. “My boots are perfect and deserving of respect! They’re less disgusting than you, even with inferior blood soaking into the leather. I should make you lick them clean and grovel with the soles pushing you into the dirt like the worm you are.”

“Well, I think you should use an illusion to turn that dead body into a pile of trash for you to sleep in. I’m sure you’d feel right at home. Just like that dump you lived in for years.”

“I’d rather fuck garbage than watch your attempts to seduce an underage girl. Unsuccessfully may I add.”

“I do not want to seduce Uni!”

“Kufu, I am glad ot hear you are not sexually interested in prickly seafood.”

“You’re such a jerk!”

The aforementioned “jerk” hummed nonchalantly.

A sigh. “Just tell me where you are and I’ll send someone for body removal. I’ll buy you new boots too. Whatever.”

Mukuro smirked. “A pleasure doing business with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that someone enjoys this. It's dedicated to my friend who I don't think has an AO3 account.


End file.
